


Tragic

by gemmajt



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Cheating, Eating Disorders, F/M, Love, Teen Angst, Teen Pregnancy, Teen Romance, Unplanned Pregnancy, Weight Issues, difficult to be around, fixing, mentions of cutting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 07:42:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemmajt/pseuds/gemmajt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're not tragic, Johanna. Tragic isn't beautiful, tragic isn't sexy, tragic isn't untouchable and removed and stoic. Tragic is ugly, it's bloody and lost and miserable. And that's not you. You're sexy. You're untouchable and removed and stoic. But you're not tragic."</p><p>~~~</p><p>A story about a girl who's drowning, a boy in way over his head, and a ghost called weight loss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tragic

It was an early December day, the 8th, or 9th maybe, and Louis was doing his usual December thing. He woke up at 7:15, leaving him exactly 40 minutes to get ready and get to school. Not that he measured it out precisely or anything. Louis styled his hair to look messy and shaved, pulling on some pair of jeans he found on the cleanish clothes part of his floor. He made it downstairs by 7:30, grabbing a wrap his mom made him and a banana. 

“Jesus fuck.” He muttered, examining the bruises on the banana. “Couldn’tve just left me a bowl of Cocoa Krispies, could she?”

He took the banana anyway, walking through the garage and getting in his truck. 

He still made it to school on time, a fact that he was decently proud about. His first class was a nap session disguised as a film course, and he took the opportunity to catch an 11th hour of rest. They were watching some weird movie that was in black and white and even though there was a lot of (unnecessary, in his opinion) music, he still managed to fall asleep. 

The rest of they day passed like it usually did. 

Louis pretended to pay attention in English.

Louis pretended to pay attention in Psychology.

At lunch, Louis sat at his normal table with the rest of the soccer team. He was closest to Zayn, Niall, and Liam, but he liked almost all of the guys on the team; Kurt, Martin, Bev, Tom... Really, Louis liked pretty much everyone on the team. 

Except Harry.

Harry Styles was the type of guy you pretended to like. He was proper fit, outgoing, and funny. All qualities which Louis knew he had. Except Louis, in Louis’ opinion, was much better. Because he didn’t make his jokes at the expense of other people, like Harry did. 

If someone told Louis that Harry was an admin at returnofkings, Louis would believe it. And if that doesn’t scream asshat into a megaphone, Louis doesn’t know what does. 

But it was like the whole school got some memo that (*cough cough*) Louis did not recieve that said they had to like Harry. Louis is still mystified by the whole thing. 

Harry’s got a new girl every week. Harry gets into several fights weekly and has a smile that looked like what would happen if a skunk could smile. His eyes are dark and calculating and cold and terrifying. Harry objectifies women and fat shames and doesn’t believe in equality. 

Basically, Harry is everything Louis hates in the world personified.

But Louis sits next to him and laughs at his jokes and does what Harry asks him to and goes to Harry’s parties and deals with it. 

Louis is lost in thought when Eleanor enters the room. She’s got a smile on her face, like always, and it grows when she sees Louis. Her walk gets a little bouncier and she’s full out grinning by the time she makes it to Louis.”

“Uh, can I...” She trails off, pointing to his lap. 

“Sure, babe.” He says, letting her climb into his lap and lean back into him. 

“Louis, baby, I had the worst day ever.” She whines, pouting her lips in a way that Louis has to admit is very unattractive on her. 

“What happened?” He asks quietly, rubbing her back in slow circles.

“First, I failed my chemistry test. And then my mom told me she had to cancel my hair appointment, which, I get it, I really do, but it was just sad, you know?” She looks at him for affirmation which he quickly gives in the form of a nod and a murmur. “Then my friend Julia got a concussion in gym, and, well, that’s it, but it really sucked.” She does that weird little pout again and Louis finds his mind catching up to her words. 

“That...sucks about your chemistry test...”  El nods her head slowly, still pouting.

Louis exhales a sigh of relief. “I...can’t you...I don’t know, it’s just..” He’s about to say but it’s just hair but he sees that Eleanor’s eyes are big and sad so he bites the words back into his throat, gagging on them as they settle down. “And...I’m sorry about Julia. How is that your uh, problem?” Louis asks. 

“She’s my friend, Lou. Concussions are terrible, they can like, end your life. She could die!” She looks really worried so he coos and tells her it’ll all be okay. When he’s done he gives Eleanor a bright smile and she seems to take it as good, smiling back and kissing him. He’s the best boyfriend ever, really.  
 He likes Eleanor, he really does, he just...He’s supposed to have a girlfriend, is what it is, and Eleanor liked him, liked him as a “close second to Harry”, as she put it nicely, and, of course, honestly, and to be honest, that’s what every guy at Temple has to live with, so he took it, and no he doesn’t regret it, not really, not really really, but sometimes he just wishes that maybe Eleanor had more to say, not about her friends in gym class but about poverty or inequality or even Syria. Even fucking Syria, a topic that has been over talked about and twisted so much that it resembles an old twizzler, even THAT would be better than the niggling fear Louis gets every time he talks to El, that if he asked her she wouldn’t know where Vancouver was, let alone Syria. 

But...she sits on his lap, and plays with his hair and smiles a lot and she’s just so nice, and so it’s okay, and it’s better than not having a girlfriend, certainly, so he just smiles and waves, so to speak. 

Then,

Louis pretends to pay attention in American History. 

Louis pretends to pay attention in Algebra II.

Louis pretends to pay attention in art. Or rather he makes a piece of art, convinces the teacher its “abstract”, and then throws some paint at Bev while he’s not looking. 

It’s a great strategy, really. 

Louis can’t believe it’s December, really, because isn’t December of your senior year supposed to be fun? Or at least bearable. Not the same terrible six classes with the same copious amounts of homework and the same lack of motivation that Louis describes to his mom as “the sort of marriage of delirium and dehydration that comes from a school system based solely on the administration of tests designed to suck the neurons out of your brain through your nose”, which works like a fucking charm because his mother knows better than to stay in the room for another one of Louis’ rants about the American school system. 

Still, the world keeps turning, and school still passes in the strange way where it seems to fly by and drag at the same time, and before he knows it (or maybe much after?) Louis finds himself leaving the school, resisting both Martin and Tom as they try to wrestle a piece of gum out of him. Literally wrestle. 

Louis manages to get Martin off him with one last well-placed punch to the gut and hops into his truck, slinging his backpack over the seat.

“See you later, fuckers.” He calls out his window at them, driving away. “Hope your bad breath haunts you forever.” 

He’s in a pretty good mood after that, partly because well fuck, school’s over, and partly because he got a good last word in to Martin and Tom and partly because its really pretty outside, though he’d never say it out loud. There are feet of snow on the ground and snow stuck in the trees and Christmas lights up and Louis’ got his radio on and he’s really feeling the Yeezy and then

FUCK.

There’s a body in the snow. 

Louis slams on the brakes and jolts forward, still just staring at the side of the road because really, how many times a day do you see an actual body lying on a snowbank. And fuck, that’s not what he’s supposed to think he’s supposed to call the police or something...or something, but... But maybe he should go check it out first because he doesn’t see any blood and-shit, why don’t they equip high schoolers for the real world, huh? 

And okay Louis needs to take deep breaths. He does, really exaggeratedly and everything, and feels his heart slow down a bit and...maybe its just a pile of trash. Or like...a dead dog. 

Ew. 

Louis does not want to deal with a dead dog. 

Louis takes another deep breath and then steps out of the truck and slowly, slowly walks towards the edge of the street. 

He hears the snow crunching under his feet and fuck its cold, his nose is already freezing and his toes are cold and why why why did this happen why isn’t he in his truck, where its warm, and there’s rap and...heat. 

Louis makes it over to the lump and no, it isn’t trash, it is a person. A girl. 

And suddenly BOOM Louis has hit his crazy meter for the day and okay, time to go home now. He’s about to turn around when he sees the legs shaking, and then he looks up and sees the arms, the torso, the whole body is shaking in the snow. He lowers himself onto his knees and runs his arm down the girl’s arm slowly. She twitches and okay, she’s still responsive, that’s good, right?He slowly, carefully, picks her up in his arms, holding her like a baby. She’s a little heavy to carry, sure, but Louis thinks he can do it so he slowly stands up and carries the shaking girl and starts to walk across the street.

“Stop.” Louis turns around, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks around the street for whoever is talking, but there’s no one there. 

“Wha-”

“Stop. Stop.” The voice comes from beneath him, and he looks down to see the girl in his arms grab his forearms and look at him desperately. “C’mon, then, put me down.” She says, resting her head on his arm. 

“Or, I could not do that.” He replies dryly. Who the hell is this girl?

“Stop, I’m too heavy. C’mon, you’ll drop me.” She cracks a small smile and tugs on his sleeve. The movement makes Louis’ heart ache. 

“You’re not heavy. And besides, I’ve made it halfway, haven’t I? I always finish what I start.”

“The second half will be harder.” She replies, her voice still quiet and shaky.

“Mm? And why’s that.”

“Your muscles are already tired. Soon they’ll revert to anaerobic resp-”

“Oh, shut up.” Louis says laughing a little and jostling her a little bit so he can open the door to his truck. 

“Where the fuck are you putting me?” The girl asks harshly, holding onto Louis’ arms instead of falling into the front seat of the truck. 

“Let go, babe, I’m just putting you in my truck, no worries.”

“Yeah that’s what every psychopath says.” She says boldly, rolling her eyes. “Just put me down, Jesus.” 

“I usually go by Louis. But Jesus is fine too.” Louis says as he dumps her unceremoniously in the passenger seat of his truck. She mutters a loud “Oomph.” and Louis winks at her. He slams the door closed and circles around to sit on the drivers side, sitting down heavily on the seat and glancing to his right. Honestly, Louis is half expecting to see the passenger seat empty. No way in hell was he expecting her to stay in the car. Then again, no way in hell was he expecting her to be curled up, shaking on the seat. 

“Uh...are you okay?” He asked casually, watching her shaking. What was with this girl?

“I just...” Her voice came out reedy and soft. “I need to...eat.” 

“You...what?” Louis doesn’t know what to say. She needs to eat? She’d just fallen into a snowbank!

“I...I just...haven’t eaten in a while, that’s why I was just taking a break from walking.”

“You...were lying in a snowbank. To take a...break. From walking.”

“Yes.”

“You...”

“Louis Tomlinson?” Her voice is soft and scared. She sounds tired and his head turns to her immediately.

“How do you know my n-”

“Do you have any food?”

He pauses, pulling out the half banana from this morning. It’s brown and gross by now, and Louis can’t stop the grimace that appears on his face. “This is disgusting, I’m so sorry-” 

“Thank god.” She interrupts, grabbing the banana from him and peeling it, before sticking almost the whole thing in her mouth, including the gross brown end and all the bruises. 

She moans, slumping back in her seat and chewing. Louis feels a chill settle in his bones, and he realizes for the first time that there is something wrong with this girl. She sat down to take a break in a snowbank because she was so hungry that she couldn’t walk anymore. But she also wants the banana, she wants to eat, right? What does that mean?

The song changes to Sparks by Coldplay, and Louis takes it as a sign that he needs to take care of her. Like right now. 

It’s snowing lightly when he starts to drive towards his house. “What are you doing?” The girl asks, staring at him with a look that’s equal parts sad and suspicious. It makes Louis’ heart hurt. She really is very pretty. Her eyes are a beautiful brown color, her long, straight hair a color to match. Her lips are light pink and he finds himself staring at them a little too long before looking back to the road.

“Driving you to my house.”

“What? Fuck no. Let me out.” She unbuckles her seatbelt and reaches for the door handle. Louis flinches but doesn’t stop driving. 

“Sit back...uh...”

“Johanna.” She gives him a pointed glance.

“Fine. Sit back Johanna, don’t worry, I go to your school, you know my name, its okay. We’re going to get you some food, okay?” Her gaze softens and she stares out the window instead of replying. Louis takes this as a victory. 

The drive is quiet, Louis’ music softly playing in the background. He bounces his fingers on the steering wheel and tries to think of what to say, but he’s got nothing. 

So instead he focuses on City & Colour and the light snow and maybe, maybe, sneaks occasional glances at the girl in the passenger seat. Occasionally. 

She really is quite pretty. He didn’t see it the first time. It’s a quiet sort of pretty. Not a jump-out-at-you-pretty, or a perfect pretty, but a soft, subdued, from-certain-angles pretty.  
They get to Louis’ home soon enough and he shuts the car off, jumping outside and jogging around to Johanna’s side of the car. He hesitantly opens the door and offers her a hand. 

“I’m fine, Jesus, don’t start being all chivalrous now.” She says harshly, batting away his hand and stepping down from his truck. The second her foot hits the pavement she collapses, but Louis was kind of expecting it, really, and he grabs her before she hits the ground. He hoists her up so he’s carrying her bridal style up to the steps in front of his house, the shivering of her body not related to the light snow falling. 

“How many times must I tell you, I go by Louis?” He jokes awkwardly, trying to dispel the tension in the air. 

“You said Jesus was fine.” The reply comes a few seconds after he speaks, and yes it’s a little too far after what he said to be considered a comeback but it’s kind of funny, so he lets out a snort and then she giggles a little and hey, happy. 

A few feet away from his steps, Louis slips for a second, just a second, but Johanna grabs onto his shoulders, hard. Once he regains his footing, Louis lets his eyes flutter closed. Who is this girl and why do her hands that are now holding his shoulders a little tighter make his heart beat faster? 

“Woahhh.” She says quietly, giggling. She’s looking up at his face now, from her spot in his arms, and woah there’s snow on her eyelashes, that’s really pretty isn’t it? Louis is so close to her face. He can see the flecks of eyeliner at the bottom of her eyes that are still there from yesterday, or maybe last week. He offers her a small smile so he doesn’t do anything he’ll regret and then finishes the walk to the house. 

Louis struggles with the keys for a second, finally pushing them the right way to make the door swing open. He doesn’t let go of Johanna once he steps in the house. He tells himself it’s because she wouldn’t be able to stand on her own if he put her down. That’s why. 

Louis gently deposits her on the couch in his living room and then goes to the kitchen to make her something. He decides on a sandwich, slathering it with peanut butter and strawberry jam, his favorite, before throwing in some chips on the side and a few carrots. 

“Here.” He says as he walks into the living room. 

She’s asleep. 

“Oh.” He mutters, putting the plate down on the table next to the sofa. 

She looks so peaceful, more than he’s ever seen her. Not that he knows her. He does NOT know her. 

Louis takes a seat on the chair next to the sofa and turns on ESPN, on mute of course. He watches a mixture of Johanna and ESPN for the next hour until he hears a little cry coming from the sofa. 

Johanna’s eyes open slowly and focus on him. “Louis Tomlinson?”

“Yeah?” He says, scratching the back of his head. He has to admit, it’s kind of weird that she’s not just calling him ‘Louis’, but he puts that thought to the back of his head. 

She doesn’t say anything, just reaches out her hand. His hand slowly reaches out to take it, and she pulls him down on top of her on the little couch.

“What are you-”

“Sh...” Her eyes close again and she rolls them awkwardly until she’s on top of him. Her head rests on his chest and her arms wrap around his sides to hug him. “Couldn’t sleep.” She mutters before her breathing evens and slows.

Louis doesn’t remember his eyes closing but clearly they do because when they open again it’s dark outside and Johanna is sitting up, her bum on his ankles, but clearly she only woke up recently, because her eyes are still crusty and she’s rubbing them and has a cute groggy confused look on her face. Louis smiles and bites his lip. 

He sits up and rubs the sleep out of his eyes as well, giving her a hesitant smile before pulling his ankles out from under her, standing up and holding out a hand to her. She takes it and pulls herself up.

“Well, that was awkward. But, like, not your fault. Thanks for, uh, having me? I’d best be going now.” She smiles winningly at him and he almost gets distracted but out of the corner of his eye, Louis can see that her arms are literally shaking and her eyebrows are crinkled just a teeny little bit with the force of staying standing.

“Come on, then, sit down at the kitchen table and I’ll get you a sandwich, yeah?” He says in his calm voice, trying to keep the wobble he’s feeling in his lungs from making its entrance.

“That’s alright, Louis Tomlinson, you’ve been more than kind, really, I mean, it’s awkward enough that I crashed on your couch.” She giggles nervously and rubs the back of her neck. 

“Really, Johanna, it’s fine, go sit down, I’ve already made it and everything. You wouldn’t want all that hard work to go to waste, now would you?” He says lightly, smiling politely at her. 

“I’m sure you’d love to eat it, Louis Tomlinson. I really must go now.” 

“SIT THE FUCK DOWN!” Louis screams, and as soon as he does it he feels bad, horrible. He doesn’t even know her. She looks scared, and her eyes start to get shiny. But before he can even apologize, she turns around and walks into the kitchen, sitting down at the island in the middle of the room. Huh, so that worked. He’ll have to remember that for next time. Wait, next time? Louis mentally hits himself and goes back in to the living room to get the sandwich. He places it in front of her, the plate clanging against the table.

“Sorry.” He mutters as she takes a bite.

“For what, slamming the plate down in front of me or yelling at me?” She asks sweetly with a sarcastic smile on her face.

“Um...both. Neither. I don’t know.”

It’s silent between them for a few minutes, and Louis watches as she finishes the sandwich.

Johanna clears her throat. “That was...um, that was good. Thank you.” She says quietly, her voice reedy and soft.

“You’re welcome.” 

“I- oh god, I...I know that I was kind of bitchy to you earlier.” She says, looking up at him from under her lashes. Louis is pretty sure she’s doing it because she’s scared of him and what he thinks of her, but it’s somehow alluring and fuck, Louis isn’t supposed to be thinking these things, the poor girl is starved and frightened. Idiot. “But- I get bitchy when I’m hungry, you know? I was just hungry, and I mean, you’re a stranger, obviously I was a little, um, tense when you took me to the car but that was just because I didn’t know you, I mean, I know you, you’re Louis Tomlinson, but I was just scared, I guess, and so so hungry, and I mean, I sort of have a thing about shitting on people who try to save me, which is obviously a problem, I mean, I get that, but you’ve just been so patient with me, which I super appreciate, and like, I’m not shaky anymore so clearly I’ve been nourished and-”

“Why’d you do it?” Louis cuts her off. She’s cute when she’s ranting, Louis thinks, but he throws that thought away before his brain even has the chance to reply she’s cute at everything. 

Johanna stops abruptly, looking at Louis with a shocked expression on her face before wrinkling her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Why did you starve yourself?” Louis knows he’s being blunt, he knows, but he needs the answer. Plus, if she’s doing it she should be aware enough to face the problem openly. 

“Hey.” She scolds, frowning. “I didn’t- I don’t stave myself. I don’t. I just...I count my calories, but the problem is that I usually have half a banana for breakfast but I forgot to eat it today before I went to my meeting this morning, and then I got distracted and didn’t eat my peanuts for snack and I thought I’d be okay to wait until I’d gotten home to have my soup and roll, but then I guess that didn’t work and suddenly I was shaking, really shaking all over, and it sucks being shaky, god I hate it, but I just couldn’t keep walking, my legs were giving out, so I laid down and-”

“Took a break. Yeah I know that part.” Louis says cooly, studying her. “Why do you count calories?”

She frowns at him again. He likes it better when she’s smiling, honestly, but he’ll take what he can get. At least she’s not yelling. 

“Because I need to lose weight and maintain the weight I’ve already lost.” She says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

To be honest, Louis never would’ve pegged her as an anorexic, or whatever it is she is. She’s not skinny, a little above average honestly. She’s curvy, curvy in the best way, and Louis is fighting the urge to grab her sides, under her ribs and above her hips, where he knows she must be soft and warm. She has medium sized boobs and a bit of a stomach, which Louis acknowledges. And sure, it makes sense that she’s trying to lose weight. Louis reckons she’s about 30 pounds heavier than Eleanor, but it’s not bad pounds. She’s soft and womanly where El is bony and androgynous. 

Louis shakes his head and tries to remember where their conversation left off. “Isn’t there a better way to do that than starving yourself?” 

“I’m not fucking starving myself!” She snaps, glaring at him.

He lifts his hands up in mock surrender. “You looked pretty starving, just saying.”

“It was an accident.” 

“It wouldn’tve happened if you ate properly.”

“If I ate properly you wouldn’t have even bothered picking me up out of the snow and taking me to your truck.”

“Well you- wait what?” 

“If I ate properly and still was what I used to be, ten pounds heavier, you wouldn’t have stopped your car, you wouldn’t have brought me where it was warm, and you certainly wouldn’t have taken me inside your house.” 

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because no one wants to help the fat girl.”

“That- that’s just...” Louis splutters. “If you were only ten pounds heavier you were not a ‘fat girl’.”   
“I was chubby.”

“I wouldn’t have cared.”

“Yes, you would have.”

“It’s not all about weight, you know.”

“That’s what people tell themselves to make themselves feel better about our society. Sure, you can tell yourself that it’s not all about weight, but at the end of the day, the hot guys are all going to choose the skinny girls. People don’t look twice at fat people.” 

“That’s what you think life is about, hot guys picking you?”

“That’s an important thing.”

“Wow.” Louis is stunned, and he rubs the back of his neck while he tries to think of something to say. “Listen, I would’ve picked you up and helped you out regardless of your weight. I mean maybe if you had been obese I wouldn’t have carried you, but I would have still helped you.”

“And would you have let me sleep on your sofa? Eat your food? Stay here and chat?” She spits out the word ‘chat’ like a sour grape. 

“Yes, yes, and yes.”

Johanna crosses her arms and sulks. “Lier.” 

“You have no proof.”

“I know.” She says, pouting. Louis is watching her face, so naturally he sees the exact moment when her eyes narrow and she starts plotting. Slowly, Johanna rises from her chair and slinks, literally slinks, over to him, standing in front of him so he’s trapped between the counter and her. She looks at him with narrowed eyes, looks at him like he’s her prey. Her teeth catch her lower lip and Louis swallows nervously. Johanna pushes him even tighter against the counter and stands on her tiptoes so she’s almost even with him in terms of height. Her eyes scream sex, all droopy and blown, and she leans in to his face, her lips centimeters away from his. She gets closer and closer, and then all of a sudden, as Louis’ breathing is getting quicker and his Adam’s apple is bobbing as he swallows thickly, she tilts her head and whispers in his ear. “And what if I was 10 pounds heavier. Would you let me kiss you?” She presses a light kiss on the part of his cheek nearest to his ear, and then pulls back. She tilts her head again, examining him like she can sense his racing heart, his choked-up throat, his screaming head. 

She exhales. “I don’t think so.”

There’s a heavy pause in the room, Louis recollecting his breathing and Johanna staring, until she breaks it quite suddenly. “Brr...” She says, rubbing her arms. “It’s fucking freezing in here. Would you mind very much getting me a blanket or a sweater?” She bats her eyelashes at him and how do you say no to that look. 

Louis nods and walks upstairs, finding a few blankets and one of his big oversized sweaters before making his way back downstairs, through the dining room, living room, and passing the bathroom before arriving in the kitchen. “Okay I got you a few of-” He pauses abruptly.

She’s gone. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please please please leave me a comment/kudos. It would mean a lot to me <3 
> 
> ~Gemma


End file.
